Friday, December 09, 2011

If you are in the market for a cheap Christmas party dress, the people at Goddiva have told me about their £15 dress offer. They sent me this dress to try and, I have to say, for a £15 dress, it's not at all bad. It's quite short, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, and even though the one I chose wasn't particularly partyish, there are lots that are.

Of the £15 options, I quite like this one for a party. Lots of ruffles but at that price, doesn't matter so much if you get a drink spilt over you.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

If you're looking for somewhere to go on a date, I could highly recommend the open air theatre. You can have a picnic, drink wine throughout the performance, snuggle under a blanket, watch a play about marriage {which was a funny coincidence as Much Ado About Nothing is about the week leading up to a marriage, and we get married next week} and there are fairy lights everywhere and the sun sets behind the trees behind the set. Beautiful.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Friday, May 08, 2009

Goats Cheese Toast with honey & salad has to be one of my favourite foods. Melted goats cheese with a little brown sugar and honey; the crunch of the toast; the crispness of salad with a lemon, oil and balsamic vinegar dressing... this dish has all the right flavours and textures.

In fact, I like it so much that we ate it for supper last night with asparagus and then I had the leftovers for lunch today.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Mark Frith is a bizarre guest {I was watching the Apprentice}. Granted, he was sat next to Ruby Wax but he spent the whole show telling Phillip what he was thinking. And seemed to rather miss the point. I know he used to edit Heat so I am aware that his usual audience is rather less intellectual than those that watch the Apprentice, but not that much, surely? He kept saying that Phillip was this, was that, whatever, when Phillip was clearly just distracted. And then asked why he didn't just admit that in the boardroom. I'm not sure Mark Frith has ever watched the show. He clearly isn't made for TV.

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Went to a Rose tasting last night. Finally the perks of M's job have started to turn social. Anyway, we tasted 45 different roses and I tried to remember to spit not swallow. Each one might only be small but 45 x small equals more drunk than appropriate at even a social work event. At the end we spoke to the chap that organised it. I complimented him on the tasting. He agreed that the USP worked really well. I wasn't sure what he meant. Beyond the obvious that they were all roses, I hadn't noticed a USP. This morning, in the absence of a job, and with broadband mysteriously not working, I looked again at the invitation. It was the company with the largest rose list in the UK that organised the tasting. I presume that was the USP; didn't seem all that unique to me.

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A TV producer friend identified the 7 ages of female drinking last week. With the exception of the Mum and Grannie phases I think I managed all of them over the bank holiday weekend. Oh, except the underage category I suppose {I have eye wrinkles now. I am clearly overage}. Yes, I drank beer in the park, supermarket-own label gin out of a paper cup at a student party, champagne, wine and mojitos at a European joint hen and stag party {much more tasteful than a UK version but a celebration all the same}, more beers and vodka and lemonade at home and of course the rose wines at the tasting. Rather a weekend...

1. clean sheets2. afternoon tea with tea and scones and vintage china3. laughing with friends over a dinner which goes on for hours4. underwear shopping {or should that just be shopping in general}5. talking in the bathroom with the almost-husband whilst getting ready for bed6. the sun shining off the sea and the taste of salt when you lick your lips7. drinking coffee and reading Vogue in a cafe8. the smell of summer rain on hot pavements9. play fighting with the almost-husband10. hand written letters

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The sound track to my life has changed. Instead of hearing the regular ring of the phone, the click of the telephone exchange announcing the call, I hear a howl of a lonely dog, brief snatches of chatter as people walk up and down the road and the regular hum of aircraft passing overhead.

Next-doors cat slumbers on my knee, thrilled to have a warm lap to curl up on. I perch my laptop awkwardly next to me on the sofa. In this new life I have no desk, or at least, not one where I can use a computer as the internet connection is behind the TV.

My to-do-list, once noted in my work diary instead scans through my mind. Where once my clients squatted, they have now been evicted, replaced by shouts such as 'new job'; 'de-clutter'; 'washing'.

Where once I felt tired but full of life, I now feel restless, anxious, bereft. Everything has changed. And yet, the only thing that has is that I don't have a job. Nothing else. Odd, isn't it? You think it doesn't define you, but, on some level, I think it must.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

...over the Easter Weekend. {I liked how Cate's post sounded, so I thought I do my own version}.

Left the house for the first time in almost 2 weeks and got in a very small hire car with M, his brother, his brother's wife and my baby sister.

Navigated successfully to Shropshire despite being stuck in the middle seat and travelling up the M1.

Had a bizarre afternoon tea-style meal with M's parents, all the occupants of our car, my parents and my other sister at 11.45pm.

Waved off my parents and two sisters in the family Volvo {they were off to our usual Easter residence of Dad's parents in the Yorkshire Dales - I wasn't going as I thought it best to not travel too much so soon after the op} which was a very odd feeling.

Realised I had left all my underwear in our flat in London so had to wear a (new) pair belonging to M's Mum whilst we made a quick dash to M&S.

Bought and then returned a grey cardigan from Primark when I realised it looked like the back had been through a roller but not the front.

Printed 75 invitations with M's help along with 75 response cards and 75 maps.

Wrote 70 invitations and envelopes with the help of M's Mum and Grandmother.

Got up at 8am for 4 days on the trot despite it being a weekend and read two books whilst M played 4 rounds of early morning golf.

Trawled the charity shops of Shrewsbury and purchased 6 dinner plates and some red and white striped fabric from which to make cushion covers.

Attempted to have afternoon tea with M in Much Wenlock only for our plan to be foiled as they had no scones.

Bought a wooden draining rack in effort to prevent M building crazy sculptures with our washing up as it dries.

Attended a church service and smiled on hearing a special prayer said for our upcoming wedding and marriage. Surprised myself that singing hurt too much and tried to force myself to stop which was hard as I love singing.

Drank coffee in the sunshine whilst reading the Sunday papers.

Posted all invitations with addresses.

Sat in a slightly emptier car all the way back to London.

Had tea with Liz and finally viewed her Morocco and South Africa photos despite her having taken those holidays in February. Ate chocolate and helped her finish the crossword.

Ate delicious stir fry which M and I cooked together whilst catching up with The Apprentice.

Managed to go to bed the same day we got up for the 5th day running.

Slept with bad dreams but woke up early and then it was back to work...

Friday, April 10, 2009

Do hope that you're enjoying the Easter weekend. My goodness, it is good to get out of the house. Much as I enjoyed my house-wife experience (aka sick leave) it's been nice to see something other than our flat and the garden. And talk to someone other than M, the postman or a passing friend.

M has been straight out on the golf course - what else could you expect - and I have been doing a spot of shopping since I managed to lose my ability to remember things when packing and realised I had left all my underwear at home.

Shropshire is green and wet. Makes a change from the grey and wet of London, although, in actual fact, the last two weeks have been surprisingly sunny. Got lots of washing done last week. Told you I was practising for impending unemployment.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

{Image from Author's Personal Collection}

The Jenny Packham skirt. Rolled up at the waist to make it a little shorter. Rejected for this evening in favour of skinny jeans, converse and a t-shirt once I remembered that it may be a 30th birthday but the party is in Camden and vintage rose dry-clean only skirts do not mix with heavy music and rum and cokes at 2am.

Another weekend, another birthday. Another outfit required. A 30th this time, so perhaps a little dressier than jeans.

This is what I would wear if I had money to spend:

{Image by Reiss}

It actually reminds me of a vintage Jenny Packham skirt which I do own but is floor length and high waisted. Similar ruffles though. And pale coffee coloured, not blue. But maybe with a white t-shirt and brown ankle boots and a cardigan it might look ok. But where it is, I do not know. I shall have to try and dig it out.